


No Man's Land

by Ariana Deralte (ArianaDeralte), ArianaDeralte



Category: Blackadder
Genre: M/M, Yuletide, challenge:Yuletide 2003, recipient:Bastet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-09
Updated: 2009-12-09
Packaged: 2017-10-04 07:18:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArianaDeralte/pseuds/Ariana%20Deralte, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArianaDeralte/pseuds/ArianaDeralte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Edmund thought going over the top was the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Man's Land

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Ashfae for betaing. (Please forgive my historical liberties about taking a walk through no man's land.)

Edmund didn't know why he was advancing. In his opinion, an officer was only supposed to obey orders within reason. And within reason didn't include walking over ground strewn with mines, the cowpats of war, into a hail of bullets that were determined to provide him with a good secondary job as a tea strainer.

He had lost sight of the rest of his regiment a long time ago. Baldrick had certainly gone down early, the lucky cad, and George had charged so quickly he was probably having tea with the Germans and wondering why suddenly no one spoke English. And Darling, well, if Darling had any of the brains Edmund occasionally accorded him in Edmund's more charitable moments, Darling had turned and run. Which was what Edmund planned on doing now.

Looking behind him to check for mines, he carefully began to make his way back to his own side. Melchett would have to accept his explanation of getting turned around in the smoke from all the weapon's fire. He was debating the idea of giving himself a minor wound to make the story more authentic when the decision was taken from him.

He was surrounded by whizzing bullets; the pessimistic side of him was well satisfied when one slammed into his leg, causing him to stumble forward into an unseen crater. His landing was soft, mostly because there was someone else under him. Someone alive by the sound of their moaning.

"Get off!" he heard them protest. Ignoring the fire in his leg, Edmund rolled off the man - not because he had been feeling charitable, but because the soldier's gun had been digging into his chest.

"You might want to try pointing that revolver somewhere other than up," he said testily. He could have been shot - again.

"Didn't... know I still had... a gun," said a familiar voice.

"Darling, is that you?" asked Edmund. He shifted a little to see the man's profile lying next to him. Receding brown hair. Stupid moustache. Yes, it was Darling.

"Blackadder! I thought I'd never hear a friendly voice again, even if it is _you_."

Edmund scowled. "Quite."

"I wish I were back at Headquarters. We were expecting a new supply of pencils. I was going to sharpen them all..." The man trailed off.

"Oh, do go on, Darling. I'm enjoying this," said Edmund sarcastically, wondering if Darling had died on him. A mine went off nearby; he flinched at the sound, then winced as the movement sent a tremor of pain through his leg.

Darling's scared face shifted into view, and not even the mud on his uniform could hide the fact that his left arm was soaked in blood. "Enjoying this? Really, Blackadder?"

"Oh, yes. I've always wanted to bleed to death in no-man's land listening to a desk-jockey with a pencil fetish prattle on."

The desk jockey comment had always been a good way to goad Darling before, but not since going over the top today. "I charged with you... Captain Blackadder," said Darling after a long pause. His voice sounded weaker.

Edmund privately revised his earlier statement. _Both_ of them were bleeding to death in no-man's land. "Yes, and weren't we both idiots for doing it." Somehow it seemed too much of an effort to talk then, so they lay in silence, listening to the distant gunfire. The explosions. The screams.

After a few moments, he became aware of Darling trying to sit up. "What are you doing?" Edmund found some strength he didn't realize he had and managed to sit up just in time to support Darling, who although sitting himself ended up leaning heavily on Edmund's shoulder, shivering.

"You said... said you were bleeding to death."

"Yes, and so are you. Do you think we should form some sort of club?" asked Edmund. His eyes were drawn to the revolver clutched in a dead man's grip in Darling's left hand.

Darling followed his gaze, and gave a funny half laugh. "I can't feel my fingers. Can't even let it... go."

Edmund rolled his eyes. "Oh, god. Stop being so melodramatic. We may be dying here but I refuse to die while participating in some dialogue that sounds like it was written by an asthmatic ape whose grasp of grammar only extends as far as spelling `banana'. With three `n's."

"It's better than General Melchett's grammar then," muttered Darling.

"Why Darling, I didn't know you had a sense of humour," said Edmund.

The old vehemence came back to Darling's voice and Edmund was sure if he looked he'd see the man's face twitching. "Not when it comes to you, Blackadder. And it's _Captain_ Darling!" He reached down with his unwounded right hand and started tugging at the top of Blackadder's trousers.

Edmund let out an undignified yelp from the pain. "What are you doing?" He brought both his hands down on top of Darling's to stop him.

"Making a tourniquet. To stop the bleeding," explained Darling distractedly, trying to tug his hand out from under Blackadder's.

"Not with my trousers!"

"Your shirt then," suggested Darling.

"Careful Darling, I'm beginning to suspect you have some ulterior motive."

"Really, Captain Blackadder!" Darling sounded embarrassed and Edmund was sure that if the man hadn't been suffering from blood loss, he'd be blushing.

Edmund looked up to heaven for some help, but realized God must have forsaken him today, or else he wouldn't have been in this situation. Actually, God must have forsaken him a long time ago, considering the existence of Baldrick.

He shoved Darling's hand off his trousers, then reached for his service knife, smirking a little when Darling flinched at the sight of it. His hands were trembling, but he managed to slice off the trouser leg on his wounded left leg. He sliced the rough cloth into long strips, and used one as a tourniquet around his own leg.

He held up a second strip. "Turn this way, Darling. No sense wasting cloth." He would need Darling's support if they were both going to get out of here. There was no way he could walk on his own with this wounded leg.

Darling obeyed awkwardly and ended up slumped on top of him, his head resting against Edmund's chest. Edmund barely managed to remain upright. Staring in annoyance at the blood dripping from Darling's sleeve onto his uniform, Edmund gritted his teeth and began to tie the strip around the man's upper arm. His movements caused a shudder of pain to rip through Darling's body and a shudder of something else to spread through Edmund's body.

He stopped tying in shock. Surely it hadn't been that long since Nurse Mary? He stared at the man in his arms. The man in his arms and the man who had been fumbling with his trousers a few minutes ago.

Ah. That was the problem then. His body was reacting without checking with his brain, much like the state George spent his entire life in.

Well, enough of _that_.

He tied up the tourniquet, and pushed Darling into an upright position again.

"Darling?" he asked. The man had been silent for awhile now. Edmund had never heard Darling go so long without accusing him of some sort of rule breaking. "Time to get up, Darling. Battlefield bonding went out with the Napoleonic wars."

Darling let out a muffled moan of pain. Annoyed, Edmund made to push the man away, then thought better of it. He'd need to use Darling to stand up. "Dammit, man! We're not going to get out of here if you collapse."

That got Darling's attention. He raised his head a little to glance sideways at Edmund. "We're going home?"

"Well, if you consider home to be a muddy hole in the dirt where we're slowly starved to death and shot at, yes."

"That's fine," said Darling vaguely.

Edmund figured that was the best he was going to get. He steadied Darling so the man was sitting up on his own, then adjusted his own position so he was ready to get up, wincing at his leg's protests when he moved. "Brace yourself," he warned Darling, just before using the man's shoulder to push himself up. Darling swayed under his weight but only had to endure it until Edmund balanced on an unsteady foot. Edmund felt light-headed and accidentally put his injured leg down for a moment.

"Bloody hell! Darling, stand up before I fall down again!" The pain was... a great big painful thing. He groaned. Things were bad when his sense of metaphor abandoned him. He was surprised when he felt an arm grasping his own. Darling had actually stood up and was giving him a weak smile.

It was an irritating smile. There was nothing to be happy about in this situation.

He slipped his arm around Darling's waist, using it to steady himself. Darling was staring at him in shock.

"If you'll return the favour so we can both balance," said Edmund. "I'd like to get out of here."

Darling slipped his arm around Edmund, and then took a hesitant step forward to the edge of the pit. Edmund hopped with him, cursing under his breath at the pain. It was going to be a long walk back.

They managed, but Darling became more incoherent as they limped forward. He was babbling things under his breath. It took Edmund a moment to realize Darling was babbling about him. "Always trying to evade the rules. As if they didn't apply to you unless you wanted them to. And all your stupid plans to get out of the trenches. Do you know how I got here? I won my posting out here in a raffle. It wasn't even first prize! You, you're a career officer. You chose to be here yet you spent all your time trying to get away!"

"Darling, I don't give a damn what you think about me," said Edmund through gritted teeth. Why they were having such an inane discussion while walking wounded through no-man's land was beyond him.

The man beside him laughed a mad laugh. "Yes, I know. You've made that quite clear. So I made it clear I didn't care about you either."

"Yes," said Blackadder dryly. "You've tried to kill me how many times now?"

"I just wanted you to go away!"

"Then why did you keep foiling my plans to get away from the trenches, you idiot?" asked Blackadder.

"Because I didn't want you to leave!"

"Darling, that makes as much sense as the Prime Minister when he tries to explain why we're fighting this war."

"I... I wanted you," Darling said softly.

Blackadder nearly stopped walking, but recovered quickly. "You're pathetic, Darling. Most people don't try to kill the object of their affections."

"You mocked me," protested Darling.

"If it hasn't escaped your notice, I mock everyone, and you set yourself up for it."

Darling's hand tightened around his waist, and without warning Edmund was turned so the two of them were standing chest to chest, unmoving. Edmund raised an eyebrow. The blood loss had obviously caused Darling to lose all sense and reason.

"And if I had asked you? You would never have said yes," said Darling. He looked desperate and ill.

Edmund smirked. "You never have asked me, Darling."

Darling stared at him in shock. "Would you... I mean, after we get back, and we're healed. Would you?"

Blackadder grimaced a little at Darling's poor phrasing, but his mind was racing back to his stirring of lust earlier. He hadn't lied to Nurse Mary when he said the most important person in his life was himself. But he also knew occasionally he needed companionship beyond his hand and a raunchy magazine. Darling certainly wasn't his first choice, but the man had held down a steady girlfriend, so there must be something to recommend him. Edmund shrugged. What did it matter so long as he was satisfied in the end?

"Yes," he said. "But I'm on top." The look on Darling's face made Edmund wish this topic had come up earlier. It was priceless, and he was reminded of why he enjoyed taunting Darling so much. The man's reactions were always so entertaining. Knowing it would shock Darling even more, Edmund lent in and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. "Now if you don't mind," he said to Darling's dazed expression. "I'd like to get out of here before either of us loses the use of a limb. We're going to need them."

"Blackadder!" Darling sounded scandalized, but started walking again.

It was a long and painful walk, and just as Edmund began to wonder if they were travelling lengthwise through no-man's land, the edge of the British trenches appeared. Darling hadn't said much of anything since their stop, and both had concentrated on the increasingly hard task of putting one foot after another. They almost didn't make it over the last line of sandbags, but once their uniforms were spotted, there were helping hands pulling them over the edge and into the trench.

Darling must have appeared the more injured with all the blood covering his uniform. A medic had to force him to let go of Blackadder's waist, and then forced Darling to lie down on a nearby stretcher. Every other stretcher Edmund could see was full. He limped over to stand by Darling's stretcher, swaying a little but managing to stay on his feet by using one hand to brace himself against the trench wall. They'd probably make him walk to the hospital at this rate. "See you in the hospital, Darling."

"You never stop do you? I have a rank." Darling's voice was weak. The medic's lifted the ends of the stretcher to carry him away.

Edmund lent down to speak in the man's ear before they did, his lips nearly brushing against the man's skin. "It's a term of affection, Darling. Get used to it."


End file.
